October 2007 - Porsche Club of America – Northeast Region

Out In The Passing Lane
Dave Weber
Why is it that when you have the least amount
of time to deal with problems, that’s when
you’re confronted with the most with which to
deal? A month ago I needed to travel on business
the two days prior to our trip to Canada to participate
in NER’s driver education event at Mosport.
The trip to Mosport is not my favorite as it takes
something close to eleven hours of driving just
to get to the track. My airline flight home from
Georgia was supposed to get me home by 11:30
pm the night before; not great but manageable if
I could get the truck and trailer ready to go prior
to my business trip. And, I’d still be able to get
six or seven hours of sleep before our Thursday
morning departure.
Unfortunately that plan fell apart almost immediately.
We had a check engine light on the truck
come on a couple of weeks earlier on our trip to
Watkins Glen. The light had eventually gone out,
but I thought I’d better have the truck checked
prior to another long trip. My local Ford dealership,
however, couldn’t get the truck in for service
Unfortunately, on the 140 mile drive on boring
Route 401 we encounter a massive traffic jam
caused by a camper and trailer on fire.
until the Monday prior to our departure, and
then they didn’t finish the work that day. So that
left me with no ability to get the truck and trailer
ready before my business trip. Plus I had to make
arrangements for a work associate to transport
Susana to the dealership to pick up the truck
while I was traveling. Of course, when the dealership
finally did work on the truck they didn’t find
anything wrong.
My planned six or seven hours of sleep was now
going to be compressed a bit to allow time to
hook up the trailer and load the race cars in an
hour or so prior to our departure. Thursday morning
was now starting to look a bit rushed.
My flight to Georgia was painless and on schedule,
and my meetings were progressing satisfactorily
until I received a call from Susana advising
that her computer was in an endless loop attempting
to restart. Nothing she tried made any
difference, and needless to say she wasn’t happy.
Of course, I’m in Georgia and can’t do anything
about it either, and both of us were worried that
she couldn’t get at files she needed to work on to
complete her portion of the next Nor’easter, along
with designing and printing out the PorscheFest
trophies — both of which had deadlines fast
approaching. I immediately concluded that the
automatic updates that were sent out by Microsoft
the night before must have screwed up her
computer.
A couple of hours later I’m at the Jacksonville, FL
airport where I learn that my 7:00 pm flight is now
rescheduled for 11:00 pm if it goes at all. I whine
a bit and they rebook me on a flight to Atlanta,
and another flight out of Atlanta to Boston if I
clear standby. Fortunately I make both flights;
unfortunately that translates into my getting back
to Boston and in bed at 1:30 am. Three wonderful
hours of sleep later I’m up prepping for the drive
to Mosport.
We depart a couple of hours later, connecting
with Don Moberg and the Noonans for the long
drive north. I’m dead tired before we even start,
and pray that we don’t have any problems on the
road. Fortunately we make very good
time all the way into Canada with
a delay of only thirty minutes or so
clearing customs. Unfortunately, on
the one hundred and forty mile drive
on boring Route 401 we encounter
a massive traffic jam caused by a
camper and trailer going up in flames.
While that mess is cleared up we lose another
hour, and once we’re moving we’re now driving
straight into a blinding setting sun. By the time
we make it to the track I’m spent.
Dinner that night and a normal night’s sleep
has me feeling better for the first of three days on
one of my favorite tracks. After three enjoyable
run sessions the clouds start to darken so I move
my car to put it back in the trailer and discover a
pool of power steering fluid under the car. A little
research prior to the heavy rainstorm yields no
clues as to the source of the leak. I resign myself
to playing the role of a spectator for the next
couple of days. The next day I spend a couple of
hours under the car removing panels trying to
locate the leak, to no avail. I drive Susana’s car for
a session, but my head isn’t into driving anymore.
The Noonans’ car shortly develops a problem,
and Don decides he’d like to head home earlier
to watch the foundation for his new home being
dug. We depart on Sunday morning headed back
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